


with shining teeth (eyín funfun)

by seinmit



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Bucky in Wakanda, Casual Sex, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mild Staff Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Water Sex, White Wolf Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21831259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit
Summary: M’Baku doesn’t care about Bucky as a symbol or as a warrior, but he starts looking at the man.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/M'Baku
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139
Collections: Flash Fuck: Round One (2019)





	with shining teeth (eyín funfun)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlassesOfJustice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesOfJustice/gifts).



> Title from the poem [Adúmáadán by Taiwo Olunlade](https://www.poetrytranslation.org/poems/black-and-beautiful), translated from the original Yoruba by The Poetry Translation Workshop.
> 
> I learned during writing this that M’Baku’s awesome staff is called a knobkerrie. Bucky doesn’t know that, but now I do and now you do too!

M'Baku is deeply unimpressed with Bucky, the first time they meet—Bucky likes that. The man barely spares him a glance, even though the conversation is obviously about him. He speaks a language Bucky doesn't know to Shuri—not Xhosa, learned recently and with difficulty, or twenty others downloaded into his brain. He doesn't bother bringing him into the conversation. Shuri starts off speaking in Xhosa, which Bucky can understand, but the man snorts and obviously chastises her. 

She rolls her eyes and contrarily switches to English. 

"Great Gorilla—"

He hoots and reaches out—flicks her right in the center of her forehead. She laughs, rolls her eyes yet again, and speaks his tongue. 

By the end of it, Bucky is smiling. He looks down to hide it.

"Lord M'Baku likes tradition," Shuri says, apologetically, once he's gone. 

Bucky waves it away. "He's right to worry." 

She hisses through her teeth, disapprovingly, and makes him carry something heavy for her even though he's still got only one hand.

* * *

Next time they meet, Bucky is holding his side over a bleeding wound, already healing. It wasn't a long fight, not with unorganized idiots who paid just enough attention to the news to make themselves dangerous, but not enough attention to realize how dangerous it would be trying to break into Wakanda to steal from them. Even with one arm, Bucky handled them.

M'Baku still barely looks at him. He spends more time poking the dead bodies with his staff, turning them over to see their faces. 

The Border Tribe warriors who had answered his call stand around them. They answer M'Baku's questions.

By this time, Bucky has found out the Jabari speak Yoruba, and he's been idly trying to teach himself. He hasn't made much progress, but it is enough to pick out a few words of the conversation. 

_Stranger wolf defend_ , he hears. He tries to sink out of the light, into the forest, but even in the moonlight his skin stands out. 

He has nothing to worry about, though. M'Baku is uninterested in talking to him. The intruders got as far as the base of the Jabari mountain—too far, for anyone's comfort. Bucky is grateful he doesn't sleep much. 

He's glad, though, that M'Baku doesn't want to speak to him. He wouldn't know what to do with thanks, and his heart is still racing. His mind flickers between past and present, and its only the overwhelming difference between the people around him and the people in his memories that is keeping him at all in the moment. 

He waits until they leave him and then he kneels in the dirt, pushing his face into the earth and trying to settle himself with the scent of growing things.

* * *

The third time they meet, it's just the two of them. 

Bucky can't sleep, again. He's wandering, again. It had taken him a little time to feel like he had the freedom to move, but T'Challa had been gently patronizing when he assured him that they were unconcerned. 

He's been in the habit of swimming, when he needs a different sort of quiet than he gets in the inside of his hut, goats breathing around him. It's less about exercise and more about the peace of solitude, of looking at a sky and seeing nothing familiar in it. Things are living around him.

"Ingcuka." A voice from behind him. Bucky goes tense, he can't help it—he hadn't heard anything above the singing of the frogs and the soft ripples of his own movements in the water. 

He turns around. M'Baku is standing at the edge of the water, looking down at him. His heavy staff is in his hand and he's frowning down at him from the bank. He's shadowed by the moonlight behind him and has a stance like he's been there for a while, watching. 

" _Great Gorilla_ ," he says, in clumsy Yoruba. M'Baku's eyebrows go up. 

He says something back, pointedly fast and with more complicated grammar than Bucky's able to follow. 

" _Novice, Great Gorilla,_ " he says, dropping his gaze. 

The snort of laughter is unexpected. 

"I will speak your language then, White Wolf," he says. The humor in his voice is surprising—he has not been following Wakandan politics closely, by design. Still, he is well aware that M'Baku's people are suspicious of changes. His very presence here is a change. 

When Bucky looks up again, he sees the glint of M'Baku's white teeth. He also sees something in his eyes, a type of appreciation he would have expected more after the fight, with the dead scattered around him. But—here it is, now. M'Baku looks him over, letting his eyes drag across Bucky's skin. 

Bucky is naked and suddenly well aware of it. The mild early morning chill on wet skin and the weight of M'Baku's regard make his nipples pebble up. M'Baku's smile grows. 

"I hope I'm not trespassing," Bucky says. "I thought I was still on Border Tribe lands—"

"You are," M'Baku says. He shrugs off his furs and unties the fabric around his waist. He's still smiling. "I'm on my way to the capital and I wish to wash the journey off of me."

He walks into the lake, his staff still in his hand. 

"I'll leave you—" Bucky starts.

M'Baku clicks his tongue. "It's a big lake, Ingcuka." 

He's still smiling, sly. Bucky feels his breath catch. He recognizes that look, all of a sudden. He used to get it all the time, back in Brooklyn, from men and women alike—this isn't too far, even, from meeting in a bathhouse, two men wanting some company when company is available. There's something breathless, in the possibility of that smile, something narcotic in the fact that this is the moment when Bucky gets M'Baku's full attention. He's naked, wet hair half up behind him a braid. Vulnerable and soft, nothing of war in his posture. He likes being looked at like this. It lets him look back, make his own eyes considering. M'Baku's a big guy, an impressive breadth to him—he's got a great smile. 

It gives Bucky an impishness, bubbling up. 

"Curious about the foreigner, Lord M'Baku?" he asks, running his hand over the water. It trickles over his fingers. 

M'Baku's still smiling. "I'm ready to hear that I'm not welcome, Ingcuka. That's a difference between our people." 

"You're welcome," Bucky says. 

Another laugh, a flash of teeth. Bucky takes a step forward—M'Baku raises his staff, then, presses it hard against his chest. It stops him, of course, but he leans in to feel the pressure of the knobbed head against his skin. 

"Are you volunteering to be an ambassador?" he says. 

"No," Bucky says. He can't help the sharpness. "No, it's just me." 

It is the right answer, somehow. The staff drops, splashing water up on to Bucky. He doesn't flinch. M'Baku moves more fully into his space and he makes Bucky feel small in the best sorta way. From this close, Bucky can see the stretch of skin over muscle, the gap between his teeth, the difference between the shine of his skin and the rough darkness of his scruff. 

"Just two men," M'Baku says—another joke, but one that Bucky is happy to take to heart. "Do you know how that goes, Ingcuka?" 

"Used to. Looking forward to relearnin' anything I forgot," Bucky says, moving closer. He gets daring and runs his hand up M'Baku's chest. He wants to feel that muscle and it is exactly as warm and satisfying under his palm as he expected. 

M'Baku pulls him close, the wood of the staff heavy against his back. They breathe at each other for a moment, M'Baku smiling down at him. His other hand sinks into Bucky's hair, wrinkles forming around his eyes from the immensity of his smile. 

"I'm not usually allowed to do this," M'Baku says with a private sort of humor, scratching his scalp. Bucky sways forward, pressing himself fully up against M'Baku, and M'Baku's hand sinks down to the small of his back, pulling him in with both flesh and staff. 

Bucky takes the hint and hooks his thigh over M'Baku's hip to support himself. He's strong, he doesn't move underneath Bucky's weight—and just like that M'Baku leans down and kisses him, hard. 

Bucky opens his mouth instantly under the kiss, letting himself be held and consumed. It's startling hot, just as wet as the water around him, but tasting of unfamiliar herbs and human-salt. He gets worked up fast, maybe too fast—it's been years since someone wanted him like this, face to face, like a man, and there's something heady about being held and kissed like this. 

He rubs himself up against M'Baku's front, his hips hitching a little to shift, so that he can feel M'Baku's cock start to harden against his own. He finds an undulating rhythm from the buried memories of his body and uses it, looking for the moment where M'Baku's grip tightens on his skin. 

He bites, because he can, and because it makes M'Baku chuckle into his mouth, hitch him up on his waist and grind down. They kiss until they're groaning, until heat is fizzing underneath his skin, about to push him over until a boil. 

"D'you think you could fuck me?" Bucky says, ebullient. He feels the heavy line of M'Baku's dick between them and he wants it, he wants—

More laughter and M'Baku shifts him in his arms. 

"I wasn't planning this, _oyin_ ," he says, shifting his head down to bite a mark underneath Bucky's jaw. He sucks, following the dig of his teeth, and then pulls back enough to examine his handiwork. "But I have an idea." 

He gently pushes Bucky off of him, settling back more fully into the water and turning him around with firm hands on his hips. He presses his staff into Bucky's hand and pushes him over, bending him at the waist. 

"Hold on," he says and Bucky clutches at the support of the staff to keep himself up, clinging to it with his arm, squeezing it against his own cheek. 

His face is inches from the water and he sees the refraction of moonlight in the wake they're leaving, the disturbances of their bodies in the peaceful surface. There are things swirling underneath, but it's unimportant in the face of a hand rubbing the muscles of his back, nudging his hip up so that his ass is mostly up out of the water. He has to go up on his toes to manage it, M’Baku keeping him stable. He feels the soft sink of dirt under his feet and swirling around his ankles.

Thick fingers slip between Bucky’s cheeks, rubbing at his hole, and it makes Bucky shudder. 

"No," M'Baku says, almost to himself. "Not today." 

But M’Baku doesn't move away, not for some moments—two fingers pressing against Bucky rhythmically. He doesn't seek entrance, only rubs, putting pressure on the thin skin between Bucky’s balls and his hole, sending sparks up his spine. 

"Maybe soon, though," he says, louder—clearly intended for Bucky. 

With that, though, he pulls away and shifts, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around Bucky's belly. His cock slips between Bucky's thighs, a smooth and open channel. Bucky, getting the idea, squeezes them tighter and makes him grunt. 

Like that, M'Baku fucks him--the heaviness of his thrusts are enough that Bucky clutches and moans into the man's weapon, supporting himself, but not able to keep his face from dipping in and out of the water. It is a welcome contrast—the water is cool and his skin his hot, burning up. He wants this to last, but the warm weight of M'Baku's dick is bumping at the base of his balls and he feels every bit of the drag. Water isn't a good lubricant, there's plenty of friction, and he feels like he's about to be set aflame from it. 

When M'Baku's hand wraps around him, he moans so loud that it echos across the lake and an early morning bird chatters back at him. 

Now Bucky laughs into the water, and M'Baku bites his shoulder as if to validate his amusement. He's enveloping Bucky, well able to hold him up, fuck him, cover him with his shoulders. It's so fucking good—it's so fucking good. 

M'Baku's noises never get loud, but Bucky hears the pleasure in the guttural sounds, feels it through where their skin touches. He bites again, a sharp point to focus on, and Bucky swears he feels the warmth of his come dissipate into the water around them. 

It's only a few more strokes and Bucky's following him over the edge, pleasure melting his spine and turning it liquid. He slumps down enough that he sees only the dark lake when he opens his eyes and tastes clean fresh-water in his open mouth. 

M'Baku drags him up, letting him lean against his chest, and noses at the soft skin underneath his ear. They breath together and Bucky lets himself be held. M'Baku's warm and now Bucky's starting to shiver, his hair dripping rivulets down his face chest. 

"I don't feel much cleaner," M'Baku says.

"Well, I definitely am more ready to sleep, so you did me a solid," Bucky says. He still has the staff pulled close to his chest, supported from both front and back. 

M'Baku gently rubs his hand over his hair, smoothing it out. Bucky smiles at that—he likes that M'Baku likes his hair.

"I'll get some oil in the capital," he says. "It'll give me something nice to think about when your patron is aggravating." 

Bucky smiles wider. M'Baku can't see it, but he figures it's understood. 

On their way out of the lake, M'Baku pinches his ass. Bucky jumps. 

"I wanted to see if you'd bruise," he says, unrepentant. Bucky laughs and sits on the bank while M'Baku dresses, digging his toes in mud. He feels sixteen, just about—it's a good feeling. 

M'Baku ruffles his hair before he leaves, and whistles as he goes.


End file.
